Heron Lake Plateau last night i had a dream that i was brushing a horse.

Without missing a beat, Finley countered that she should capture a stag, if anything. Wildfire chortled as she pictured her godmother straddling one of the mighty ungulates. Then the mental image shifted and she laughed out loud as the Finley in her head reared up, forelegs planted on the buck's rack, hind legs supported by the slope of his muscled back.

"How majestic," she murmured, still laughing under her breath. If it was possible, her eyes grew even fonder as she regarded Finley. "I'd really love for you to meet Kiwi. And I'm sure you know Bat already. I definitely want to make sure they have some of their Great Aunt Flea's influence in their lives..."